


Just Keep Me Warm

by ozsia



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Night Terrors, They Made Yuuri Demon King And It Gave Him I S S U E S, Timeline What Timeline, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23290798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsia/pseuds/ozsia
Summary: ‘Shh. Shh. It’s alright,’ Wolfram attempts to soothe, awkwardly skimming his hand down Yuuri’s back. They’ve been engaged for years and yet they’re still so tentative. He’s never regretted it more than now, here, where Wolfram is at a loss as to how to make this better. How to soothe the nightmares into something manageable.
Relationships: Wolfram von Bielefeld/Shibuya Yuuri
Comments: 13
Kudos: 70





	Just Keep Me Warm

Wolfram doesn’t consider the change that Yuuri’s gone through since they first met. It’s a failure on his part; for his attention to be so lacklustre but everything’s been so chaotic. Wolfram grew up in  _ war,  _ and yet even he’s been struggling to keep up with the situations that Shinou has thrown at them since Yuuri’s coronation. They settled into a false sense of security once they dealt with the Soshu, and Yuuri returned from his long unintended absence.

Saralegui was just one more disaster for Gunter to add to his growing novelisation of Yuuri’s life. Every “adventure” - well, it doesn’t leave a lot of breathing space. No time to simply  _ be,  _ to coexist with one another. When things  _ are  _ quieter, Yuuri tends to be visiting with his human family. He really does have the damnedest timing. 

It’s no excuse. Since their engagement, Wolfram’s own duties to the Castle were stripped back so that he would properly be able to devote his time to his new fiancé. A majority of his responsibilities were aiding Yuuri and yet -

How much Yuuri has grown goes unnoticed.

They’re having that time now, but the price is heavy. Yet, Wolfram is counting every blessing. Because Yuuri had very nearly not survived the latest in their long line of castophies. Truthfully, their king is in danger so often it’s shameful, and it’s not even always their fault with Yuuri’s own foolhardy attitude. But it was so  _ close.  _ So close it’s a miracle Yuuri is still with them and not their ancestors.

The recovery period for Yuuri’s latest heroics doesn’t seem to have an end point. Their king’s once vast maryoku has been decimated to but whispers. It seems enough to keep him alive so far, but his condition is poor and more than once, Wolfram has caught Gisela staring with a concern that terrifies him. Yuuri didn’t fade, though, he clings to life and begins to improve. “Stable”, Gisela states eventually when days turn to weeks.

And yet - not. 

Things are far from returning to normal. Wolfram has taken up most of Yuuri’s duties, when it’s clear that it will be sometime before Yuuri is capable of doing it himself, and the need for the country to keep running outweighs Wolfram’s desire to remain by his fiancé’s sickbed. In everything but name he’s acting as regent. His brothers help, so that he can visit Yuuri. Greta is there more often than not, too, pressed up against the mattress, talking or reading to him, no matter if he’s awake or not. 

No one brings it up, but it feels like Julia’s passing all over again. Like they are in a period of mourning. The light, joyful - and oftentimes ridiculous, atmosphere that accomplies Yuuri’s presence to the Castle is nowhere to be felt. The workers and soldiers are on tinder hooks and the nobility is no better.

Mother sends another letter stating her intent to return to him, for support. Wolfram doesn’t have it in him to deny her, though he’d usually be too stubborn to allow even his silence to act as confirmation. Stubbornness, he finds, is in short supply.

‘Are you…’ Yuuri begins, breaking the silence that settled during another of Wolfram’s visits. They didn’t always talk - when Yuuri was awake. They’d relax and just enjoy being together. Today, Wolfram was drawing while Yuuri wanted to read through the current state of the country. The documents are propped up on his lap, where he’s too exhausted to properly concentrate on them. Yuuri wouldn’t have them at all if he wasn’t bored and frustrated and insisted. 

‘Hm?’ 

‘Wolf…’

‘Yes, Yuuri?’ Wolfram glances up from what he’s sketching - a swarm of bearbees, pencil stilling on his page. He’s careful with the bound book; a treasure Yuuri brought back for him. It became a habit with Yuuri; bringing back souvenirs from his home world, for his daughter and fiancé . A strange new ritual Wolfram reluctantly enjoyed. 

‘When are you...coming back?’ 

It doesn’t click right away - what Yuuri meant. Because while Yuuri can be straightforward, he can get shy about the strangest things. 

‘Back?’ 

Yuuri swallows and shifts tentatively to lay in Wolfram’s direction, despite the burning of his cheeks and his propensity to hide them when they coloured. The documents moved with him, following the curl of Yuuri’s body to slide to the floor. 

‘To sleep,’ Yuuri finishes quietly, eyes half mast and  _ exhausted.  _ Yuuri’s been trying so hard to put on a strong front, but that all seems to fade away when they're together. ‘When are you coming back to sleep?’

Wolfram has been returning to his own chambers for the nights. More often than not, he doesn’t sleep. Not without Yuuri. The bed is too big, too empty and cold. And then the worry... What if something happens? What if he isn’t there and Yuuri’s condition deteriorates and there’s a knock at the door and -

Wolfram feels his expression transform from surprise, sitting straighter. He unconsciously shuts his sketchbook, moving it onto the table beside him. ‘...you’re  _ asking  _ me to -?’ 

‘I -’ Yuuri looks away, eyelashes fluttering, the dancing shadows just make him look sicker - ‘I wake up looking for you and you’re…’

_ Gone. _

Wolfram is abruptly cold.

‘I - I keep almost losing you, and everytime it’s  _ my fault  _ and now you’re not - not here anymore…’ Wolfram has to clench his fists. His palms are starting to tingle and fire can be far more destructive than water. ‘You’ve...never left before.’ 

‘I’m here, Yuuri. I’m fine.’ The reassurance doesn’t feel enough to Yuuri’s steadily heavier breaths, or the growing crystals in his eyes. So much emotion...Yuuri’s always felt too much, but the times Wolfram’s seen him  _ cry?  _ They’re slim. Even with how much they’ve asked of Yuuri. 

Not to say Yuuri  _ hasn’t.  _ He wears his heart on his sleeve, but his heart seems to lean more heavily towards anger as a reactionary measure. Something to transform rather than fixate. Yuuri focuses on fixing things, rather than feeling them.

Yuuri doesn’t cry. Yuuri doesn’t cry over  _ him. _

Yuuri shakes his head into his pillow. Wolfram can’t fathom what he’s attempting not to say. ‘Do you still want to?’ 

‘What?’ Wolfram finds himself frowning and then - he hesitantly stands, careful of the documents at his feet. Yuuri’s dark eyes watch him. There’s no protests when Wolfram comes to perch on the side of the bed. ‘Yuuri, I was planning on giving you another week or so, and then returning.’

They were getting there, though Wolfram tries not to bother Gisela with things of that nature. Yuuri swallows loudly and Wolfram makes an absent note to fetch some water. Yuuri shifts again. Not much - too weak and sore to move a lot, so he can look at Wolfram better. His hair fans around him, curled slightly on the ends from bed baths and sleeping with it wet. 

‘Really?’ The word is achingly small.

‘...Yuuri, when you were - in that coma, I couldn’t sleep with you then, either,’ it’d been torture but Gisela was  _ insistent.  _ And no one with any amount of sanity argues with a healer. For long, anyway. Wolfram was rational enough to understand; she needed the space and a controlled environment and the ability to do her job.  _ Without  _ Wolfram leeching at her concentration, with his overwhelming worry and heartache.

No one had time for Wolfram’s breakdown, not even himself. 

There was, however, no world in which Wolfram  _ left.  _ Not with Yuuri so close to fading. Wolfram couldn’t imagine a life without Yuuri in it anymore, so he held onto the belief that Yuuri would survive, but if the unthinkable did happen… Wolfram wasn’t about to be anywhere else but at his side.

‘I slept in here, on the floor, by the window.’ It isn’t dignified but no one had mentioned it. Not beyond asking if Wolfram was comfortable or offering him extra pillows and blankets, during the quiet periods. Where all they could do is wait and listen to Yuuri breathe and pray. 

It’s embarrassing to admit to, because it feels like Wolfram is exposing too much of himself by saying it. But it seems like something Yuuri needs to hear and right now, that far outweighs his discomfort. 

Yuuri blinks tiredly in surprise and then - much to Wolfram’s shock, takes his hand in kind. Their fingers slide together gently. Wolfram stares on in amazement before reality reinserts itself. Yuuri has never been especially tactile, but when it happened, Wolfram was always able to sense his maryoku. Now it’s just - gone. Yuuri feels so much - denser now. Without the ocean in his heart.

‘Come back?’ Yuuri requests quietly. 

Wolfram nods, unable to find his voice.

Yuuri falls asleep not long after and Wolfram leaves to find Gisela to receive her permission. She allows it after some discussion and Wolfram feels lighter in his relief. 

Later that nigh t, Wolfram knows that Yuuri’s in a light doze before he even opened the door, by the murmured word of the guard on duty. Entering woke the king just enough for a few minutes of chatter and murmured “goodnights.” Yuuri was dragged back under again quickly.

It’s not much of a surprise. Yuuri sleeps more often than not. Wolfram would tease him about being lazy if it isn’t so concerning. Gisela hopes that Yuuri is simply in a state of rest; that he’s recovering his loss of maryoku. 

(Saralegui is lucky that Yuuri’s instilled in them so much  _ mercy _ .)

Wolfram watches Yuuri in the moonlight. Watches the slight rise and fall of Yuuri’s chest, counts the teeth he can see from Yuuri’s parted lips and wonders at how close he came to losing his heart. It’s all he thinks about nowadays, it’s all he thinks about then, until he joins Yuuri in dreams and he’s not consciously thinking anything at all. 

He isn’t out long before he’s jolted awake again. 

The screams, beginning at first as whimpers lost to Wolfram’s dreams - digress as terror grows. Yuuri is screaming; he’s crying and fighting and by the time Wolfram's realised this, Yuuri’s maryoku - the dregs that he’s managed to keep after that last battle,  _ burns _ in panic. It raises and fluctuates wildly but too weak and shallow then do much more than agitate itself. 

‘Yuuri - Yuuri!’ Wolfram attempts to wake him. To dispel whatever is hurting him. Wolfram’s voice doesn’t seem to reach him, and Wolfram begins to panic as he shakes Yuuri’s shoulder, squeezes his hand; attempting any sort of stimulus that might break through Yuuri’s nightmare.  _ ‘Yuuri!’  _

Nothing seems to work and Wolfram’s at tears himself, when the door is exploding open by the Guard, and not much later than that, Gisela and Conrad. Their faces are pale with concern, and tense with panic. Wolfram’s surprised it’s taken that long with a majority of Yuuri’s inner circle having moved their rooms closer during his recovery.

‘What’s happened?’ Gisela demands immediately, sharp eyes assessing the situation. But Wolfram has no answers and flounders as he struggles to contain Yuuri’s twitching body. It’s the most Wolfram’s seen Yuuri move in - months. And he’s afraid of his fiancé hurting himself.

‘I - I -’ 

‘Wolfram,’ Conrad’s voice cuts through the panic. 

Wolfram takes a breath and tries to remember his words with his chest pounding, and his heart in his throat. ‘Yuuri won’t wake up,’ he explains pointlessly, barely above the pained noises Yuuri is making. ‘He was - calm, when I got to sleep -’

Gisela’s lips thin and Wolfram feels like a failure. ‘Try and keep the King steady, please,’ she requests and Wolfram nods as he more firmly presses their bodies together. Gisela places a hand to Yuuri’s sweaty temple and with her markyuko glowing a gentle green, begins to chant quietly. Wolfram can’t hear what she’s saying.

It’s not long after, however, that Yuuri starts to calm down, when Wolfram has a heart attack. ‘...Papa?’ Greta is standing at the door, peering up at them, eyes wet and wild and scared as she looks into the Kings chambers. 

‘Greta?’ Wolfram asks weakly. 

But Greta isn’t looking at Wolfram, she’s staring at Yuuri. Yuuri who is slumped against Wolfram’s chest and trembling like a newborn, with a face flushed and damp with tears. ‘I - woke up. Papa was - he sounded like -’

_ He sounded like he was tortured. _

_ He sounded like he was dying. _

She can’t finish and neither can Wolfram. ‘Sweetheart,’ he begins but hesitates. Greta is distressed but so is Yuuri and between the two of them, Yuuri is the one who’s ill. ‘Sweetheart, I know you’re scared but it’ll all be better in the morning. Do you think you can go with Uncle Conrad?’ 

Conrad looks back over to Yuuri, pauses between two duties, before he forces on a strained smile and moves to bend down beside Greta. Too old to have him crouching and yet still too young to have to witness this. Good. It’s what Yuuri would want. He’d hate their daughter seeing him like this. 

‘But I wanna stay -’

‘Your parents will be happy to see you tomorrow, okay? But right now, Yuu - your Papa is having a treatment, and I think he needs Daddy’s support,’ Conrad explains softly, but even then, Yuuri’s panicked breathing is deafening. ‘I’m a poor substitute, but do you think I’ll do, until we can come back?’ 

'...later?' 

'I promise.'

Greta’s expression crumbles but she takes Conrad’s hand and allows herself to be moved out of the room. Wolfram feels faint nausea. Greta should never have had to see her parents like this. They’ve protected her from as much as they could since adopting her, and yet…

Yuuri seems to have woken the whole castle. Wolfram can barely concern himself with the possibility of rumours and gossip, as he busies himself with making shushing noises, and kissing Yuuri’s crown, instead. Without Yuuri, the majority of them would be dead. They can deal with the consequences of Yuuri’s sacrifices. 

By the time Gisela has forced a number of potions down their King’s throat, he seems to be slightly conscious. ‘Your Majesty?’ Gisela tentatively inquiries. Bleary obsidian eyes peek through their shield of black eyelashes. Yuuri’s face seems to have aged as he looks almost frantically around the room before relaxing. ‘Majesty? King Yuuri?

Wolfram swallows and squeezes Yuuri a bit, while trying not to be restrictive. ‘Mm sorry,’ Yuuri finally murmurs, breathless and raw. ‘Thought it’d - it’d be better. Tonight.’ 

Wolfram can feel Yuuri shaking, like it’s just below freezing and he’s been left out in the cold. Wolfram hates it. Even going so far as to gently heat his skin to try and further soothe Yuuri. ‘I’ve noticed you’ve had some disturbed sleep, Your Majesty, but this was quite a severe episode. Have you had a night terror like this before?’ Gisela questions, taken root in the guest chair they’ve had set up. 

Yuuri begins to relax, in stages, moulding into Wolfram, until Wolfram’s the only thing keeping them up. It’s a weight Wolfram is all too happy to hold. ‘Mm. At home. A few times,’ Yuuri admits quietly, obviously exhausted. 

‘With the same symptoms?’ 

‘Some of them.’ 

‘Gisela,’ Wolfram whispers, as Yuuri’s eyes finally surrender and they close shut, ‘can we follow this up later today?’

Gisela obviously doesn’t want to put it off. Yuuri having this level of night terror is indicative of larger issues that need to be addressed, but with the sickness and Gisela’s charms and potions - Yuuri’s not going to be awake that much longer. 

She sighs but stands. ‘Please send for me when he’s up, Prince Wolfram.’ 

Wolfram nods and waits until she and the guard are gone, door shut, to shift them back towards the mattress. ‘Wolf?’ Yuuri murmurs as Wolfram settles them on Yuuri’s side, tangled in each other. Wolfram doesn’t know if this is an invasion, just that he is unable to let go.

‘Yeah, Yuuri?’ Wolfram asks just as quietly, voice low and thick.

‘Nothing,’ Yuuri says, ‘jus wanned to check.’ 

‘Check what?’ 

Yuuri’s barely conscious when he says: ‘tha you’re still there.’ It’s just as well. Wolfram would like to be able to smother his tears into Yuuri’s hair unseen.


End file.
